


Acknowledge the Scars

by kenzieann27



Series: Labor Day 2020 Fics [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), M/M, Mentioned Bill Denbrough, Mentioned Mike Hanlon, Mentioned Stanley Uris, Minor Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenzieann27/pseuds/kenzieann27
Summary: Wanting to fix a bit more than their relationship, Richie visits Eddie and begins to realize their relationship isn't the only thing that needs to be fixed.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Eddie Kaspbrak
Series: Labor Day 2020 Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922260
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Acknowledge the Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Took me a long time to figure out of I wanted to do a sequel, but here it is! Enjoy! :)

Richie Tozier, unaware of his own place in the world, was not a smart person. Of course, he was at the top of his class, despite dismal comments from his teachers on "that mouth of his" that seemed to never stop talking, joking, laughing- whatever it was that got those thoughts in his head blurted out loudly in the world. Desperate to be heard but not seen, Richie was not a smart person.

Though the inevitable negative thoughts invaded his mind as of late, he tried his best to dispel them as quickly as they entered his mind. Richie being Richie, though, this eventually led to what his friends would dub "the summer of self-deprecating jokes." And it was most definitely turning out to be a rainy summer.

Staring up at that house- of course, _that house_ \- Richie took a deep breath and smiled up at the familiar teen sitting on the front porch, scrubbing what was proving to be a rather stubborn stain out of his favorite red shirt. Richie fidgeted with the plastic lid on the small translucent bowl in his hands, offering it to the boy on the porch as he walked up to him. "Want a cookie?"

"That's a strange way to say hello," the boy stated, drying his hands off on a small hand towel and standing up. "Then again, it is _you_ that I'm talking to."

"It's nice seeing you, too, Eddie." Richie sat the bowl down on the step as he looked down at the soapy shirt in the bucket of water. "I, uh… I think I left my jacket here. A while ago, I mean- I'm not just coming over to your house in the middle of the night and leaving my clothes here."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Eddie shrugged, draping the towel over the back of the rather old and worn-down chair.

"Right… so, uh," Richie gestured to the front door as he stammered, fully aware of the awkward situation that was right in front of both of their faces. "Should I go get it, or…?"

"Nah, I'll go get it," Eddie said as he sat on the chair. "I don't need you going in and stomping around while Mike's trying to sleep."

Richie raised his eyebrows at the mention of Mike; though he didn't know the full extent of whatever his current relationship with Eddie was, he could tell it was something a bit more than just friendship. "Boring him to sleep already? I thought it would take more than a month for you to get to that point, Eds."

Ignoring Richie's comments, Eddie rolled his eyes as he tried to answer his question. "We're supposed to go meet up with Bill and Beverly at the quarry later. Mike said he was tired from work, so he's just taking a nap right now," Eddie answered quickly. "And _I_ thought it would take _you_ longer to realize your jacket was missing."

"Yeah, well," Richie shrugged, pointing at the bowl as he sat down next to it. "Are you sure you don't want a cookie? It took me all morning to make those."

Eddie scoffed as he stood up, walking over to the front door before answering Richie's question once again. "I don't want to eat your boyfriend's cookies, Richie."

"Hey, suit yourself. They're quite delicious, so you're missing out," he muttered as he opened the bowl to take out a small cookie. "Don't give me that look- there's like two dozen cookies in there, I'm sure Stan wouldn't notice if _one_ cookie is gone."

"Oh, he'll notice."

It had been a while since Richie had really thought of his and Eddie's relationship- or lack thereof- and he was quite okay with that. Of course, he hated how things ended with Eddie, so abrupt and confusing that even a year later he had trouble thinking about it. Or, even more confusing, _how_ it happened. Or why.

"We're supposed to be happy together," Eddie had told him on that cool fall day. He had been so worried about what they were _supposed_ to do while Richie was simply preoccupied with doing whatever he felt was right; whatever felt good, Richie did. This presented its own issues, obviously, as what felt right to Richie was not always going to feel right to Eddie. Spending late nights together, even when Eddie was asking Richie to go home. Dancing in the rain, even when Eddie was sobbing about how they'd get sick and die. Never wanting to hold hands in public, even when Eddie would swear the lack of affection was killing him. "We're supposed to be happy together, Richie, but I'm not anymore."

At first, Richie wasn't sure how to take that conversation. He tried blocking it out, ignoring it, let it build up inside of him in every possible way until he started questioning everything he did. _Is this okay for them?_ he'd ask himself, even when no one else was around. No longer doing things for himself, but for the indescribable _them_. Even now, this summer, it persists in the form of self-deprecating jokes. It takes many forms, of course. It always does.

"Not sure why you want your jacket now- you know, since it's summer- but here you go," Eddie called out as he opened the front door, tossing the light gray jacket to Richie. "So, uh… tell Stan I said hello, or whatever."

"Actually, Eddie, I- I was wondering if we could talk?"

"I don't really care about what you're going to say, Richie," Eddie shook his head as he took his place back in front of the small bucket of water.

"I hate how things ended," he blurted out, placing the jacket on the step next to the container of cookies. "How I left things. You didn't deserve that and I'm sorry."

"I don't know what you're apologizing for," Eddie shrugged, turning to face away from Richie as he continued. "We both messed things up."

"And it's not just that. All of us are just- we're not the same. Stan's mad at Mike, you're mad at Stan, Bev's mad at all of us. I don't want any of us to hate each other anymore, we're supposed to be friends."

"I deserve to be mad at Stan. When he starts fights because he can't keep his thoughts to himself- especially when it comes to me, Richie, _me_ \- I deserve to be a little upset about it. You say it like I'm mad for no reason, and, fuck, even if I _am_ , it's none of your business."

Richie sighed as he listened to Eddie, nodding his head slowly as he tried to come up with a sensible response that wouldn't escalate the conversation further. "You're allowed to be upset, really, but it's just that I have to be on Stan's side. I- I love him, and I understand the things he did. Everything was uncomfortable and Stan was the only one that said anything about it. It's unfair for him to have to deal with you being frustrated because-"

"I don't give a shit about your dating life," he scoffed, trying his best to take out his frustrations on the stain in front of him that stubbornly refused to come out. "And you don't get to tell me what I am _allowed_ to feel. _He_ might be perfectly fine with someone telling him what to do all the time, but that's not me."

"I didn't come over here to fight with you, Eddie."

"Then why are you here? Why are you _still_ here?"

"Things are bad with Stan." Richie took a shaky breath as he spoke, keeping his eyes focused on his hands as they fidgeted in his lap as a way to avoid looking up at Eddie. "He got the bandages taken off his face last week and, you know, he isn't exactly taking it well."

None of the Losers really knew how to respond to what happened with Stan. It was the week after his birthday, a rather sunny day in an otherwise cloudy and humid summer, when he woke up early and took a walk out to the woods by the quarry. It was an unfortunate day to pick to go for a walk, Stan had learned quickly, as he happened across a rather aggressive stray dog and, well, the rest is history. Richie blamed himself for the incident, of course, as he believed he should have been there, he should have helped more, should have made things better. All he could offer were words of encouragement that Stan refused to listen to and undercooked cookies that even Richie struggled to benefit from.

The thing Richie remembered the most about the incident was how heartbroken Stan both looked and sounded. Bill, of all people, had come across him roughly half an hour later on his way to the quarry and had escorted him back to his parents' house. _It was Bill_ , Richie thought as he remembered that day; he was on his way to the arcade when he saw Bill struggling to console a sobbing Stan as they tried to get to Stan's house. _I'm his best friend, his boyfriend, but it was Bill_.

"Are they bad?" Eddie turned to ask Richie, who gave him a knowing look that seemed to answer his question well enough. "Sometimes scars fade, they're not always there forever."

"It's his _face_ , Eddie. I don't think he'd care that much if it was his foot or whatever… fuck, even _those_ cuts and bruises went away. This- this is different, it's his _face_. Last time I visited him, he told me to cover all the mirrors in his house, Eddie," he shook his head "It breaks my fucking heart to see him like this. He barely eats, he looks like he hasn't been sleeping, he won't talk to me about it. We're supposed to tell each other everything, like- we've always, _always_ been best friends, and he won't tell me what's wrong. It's scaring the shit out of me."

"Acknowledge the scars." Eddie turned back around and focused on his shirt once more before sighing and spinning around to fully face Richie. "You need to just go there and acknowledge they exist. Yeah, they might be there forever, but they're not all who Stan is. He's just the same person- it's like if Stan was born with green eyes instead of brown, like, he'd still be Stan. He might look a tiny bit different, but he's the same person. You need to work _with_ him on this, Richie, not against him. Don't tell him how he needs to feel, don't make him do things he's not ready to do. You need to listen to him, talk to him, show him that you are there for him."

"His mom is always around." Richie frowned, though he understood completely what Eddie was trying to tell him. "I- you know. We're not exactly open about it. It's hard because I want to be close to him, but we can't."

"I do know, because it's one of the reasons why we're- no, this is- no." Eddie rested his head on his hand, shaking his head as he tried desperately to bring the conversation back to Stan. "Why did things start getting bad? Was it the bandages?"

"It was, uh..." Richie scratched his head as he thought, biting his bottom lip nervously as he remembered the day clearly. "It was a few days after his birthday- this was before the accident. My parents were out of town, and- you know what, I think you're smart enough to figure out where this is going. And it was _bad_ , Eddie, it was super awkward. I mean, not that it wasn't-"

"Richie."

"It wasn't, like, _bad_. I think maybe we just weren't absolutely completely ready. I mean, I guess that I should have known that it didn't really feel right. I _definitely_ knew something was weird when I-"

"Richie, please- I don't need every fucking detail. I get it, you guys had sex. It was weird, you shouldn't have done it. _I get it_." Eddie pulled a face as the words were said out loud, not really expecting him to be the one to say it out loud. "So, that's why you guys have been all weird? Seriously?"

"Oh, like you haven't talked with Mike about it." Richie rolled his eyes, shrugging as Eddie pulled a rather unattractive face in his direction. "It's an awkward thing, Eddie. I've known Stan since we were, like, five. That's like you and Bill having sex."

"Oh, God," Eddie groaned, shaking his head to force that picture out of his mind. "Just- just shut up, please."

Richie snickered quietly when he noticed the face Eddie had pulled, knowing it would earn him a swift (though not particularly hard) kick to the shin if he had laughed too hard at Eddie's expense. "You're right, though- that is when things got all weird. And then he got his face all messed up and I wasn't there for that which just made things worse. So now I'm just caught picking the flowers and getting the soup and baking the cookies. I just- I don't know how to respond to this sort of thing."

"Why are you apologizing?" Eddie glanced down at the container of cookies in confusion, continuing his thoughts when he noticed a similar look growing on Richie's face. "Flowers, soup, cookies- you're acting like you're apologizing for something. You didn't do anything wrong- not alone, anyway. It's just a little awkward right now, and you don't need to apologize for that. Like I said, if you just talk to him, things will probably get better. I know being serious isn't exactly your strong suit, but just giving him things isn't going to fix anything."

Richie nodded, giving Eddie a soft smile as the shorter teen reasoned with him in a way not completely unfamiliar to him. "You're really good at that, you know."

Eddie tried to hide the blush he felt rising up on his cheeks, knowing too well the meaning behind them and how the person in front of him used to love that color beneath those freckles. But not anymore, luckily enough. Not anymore.

He thought it was a smart decision, being with Mike. Someone completely different from the mess of a person sitting in front of him. The mess of a person that, in a perfect world, Eddie felt like he _should_ have ended up with. Grown old together with. Done everything with. But this, obviously, was not a perfect world. It's dirty. It breaks your heart and tosses a perfectly amazing guy on your front porch, asking desperately for your help. A guy you're happy with; maybe not as happy as you would have been, but it's good enough for this dirty world.

Or, at least, it _would_ have been good enough if not for this day, if not for him.

"Richie, I…" Eddie sighed, knowing that this could go in two different directions, with each more terrifying than the other. He knew what to say, but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to say it. He whispered it so softly, so quietly, that he was afraid Richie didn't hear it; then again, Eddie wasn't sure which would have been better. "I think I still love you."

Richie nodded, adjusting his glasses as he tried to think of something, anything, to calm the nervous teen in front of him. "I mean, why wouldn't you?"

"This isn't some stupid joke, Richie, it's-"

"We never worked anything out. We just- whenever something was wrong, we'd put it away and never talked about it," he reasoned, looking back on their relationship and its less-than-stellar ending "It's a given that we still have these feelings. That was never the problem, I think. We loved each other, but we were two stupid kids that didn't know how to be together."

"But now you're with Stan and I'm with Mike" Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he looked back up at Richie. "I think that maybe _we_ were the ones that were supposed to be together."

"Maybe," Richie shrugged, standing up and stretching a bit when he noticed Eddie's annoyed expression. "Well, it's not like that means anything. Like, I'm sure my mom didn't think she'd end up with my dad, but they're all gross and love each other and all that shit. Life is just dumb, sometimes you just end up with someone you're happy with rather than the person you are 'meant' to be with. I'm really happy with Stan, and I'm sure you are just as happy with Mike. Isn't that all that matters?"

"They got in the fight because of me," he said flatly, shaking his head. "It's been a month, but I can't help but think about it and how everything is ruined all because I just can't get over you."

"You don't have to get over me- or anyone, for that matter. Why do _I_ even matter when it comes to this? What we had was fun, but that's not us right now. Just go be with Mike and be _happy_." Richie picked up his jacket, folding it over his arm as he reached to grab the container of cookies. "We'd drive each other crazy, Eddie. You know that."

Eddie watched as Richie walked down the steps, allowing him to go about halfway down the path to the sidewalk before calling out to him. "I'm going with him, you know."

"Yeah, I- I know," Richie nodded, knowing full well of the Hanlons' upcoming move from Maine all the way down to Florida at the end of their upcoming junior year. It was an event none of the Losers really knew how to process, not wanting to think of their future without their most gentle and forgiving member. And, after Richie's suspicions of Mike and Eddie's relationship grew over the summer, so did those thoughts that maybe Mike wasn't the only one in their group leaving. Whether those thoughts affected the way Richie was able to let go of Eddie so quickly, though, wasn't something he would ever discuss.

Not wanting to leave Eddie's house on a sour note (once again), Richie held out the container, offering Eddie a bit more than a sad smile as he left. "You sure you don't want a cookie?"

Eddie smiled at the question, though he shook his head when he realized the distance between them as Richie continued down the path. "No, I'm- I'm good, Richie."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to get Stan to not be such a fan of peanut butter cookies, they're disgusting."

"His taste in cookies is almost as bad as his taste in men," Eddie smiled, watching as Richie feigned offense before giving him a short wave.

"Thank you for talking some sense into me," Richie frowned, nodding a bit as he continued. "I'm sure Stan will want a word with you after realizing you were the one that suggested I talk to him even more than I already do. But, uh… yeah. Thank you, Eds."

Eddie also felt the soft smile disappear from his face as he watched Richie walk off, knowing he was taking with him the last thing Eddie kept of his at this otherwise sterile and unhappy house. Then again, Eddie couldn't really bring himself to compare the vague smell of tobacco and cheap bubblegum to having Mike fall asleep so quickly on his couch. And, as he turned to face the bucket of soapy water in front of him, he didn't feel as frustrated with that stained shirt anymore. The stain is there, of course, and maybe it'll be there forever, but sometimes it's best to acknowledge that those things exist than to spend forever trying to make them disappear.

"No problem, Richie," Eddie said softly, leaning back on his hands and taking a deep breath, smiling after catching the faint sound of snoring coming from his living room.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr! @kenzie-ann27


End file.
